


keep you beneath the stars

by weatheredlaw



Series: radio edit [9]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anger Management, Asexual Character, Asexuality, Daddy Issues, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Relationship Discussions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-19 10:51:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4743554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weatheredlaw/pseuds/weatheredlaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's fun, sometimes, to be the runt of the litter.</p><p>He gets what he wants, and no one really notices.</p>
            </blockquote>





	keep you beneath the stars

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my gosh it's been so long since I updated this, but I am going to complete this series this weekend! I've got the final part coming up, thanks to folks who have continually read and commented on it, that really does mean a lot to me. <3 This is certainly not an ~unlikely romance, but it is something I wanted to write, with some elements from newer episodes. Nothing spoilery, really, but inspired, more so. Please enjoy!

Donut has never really minded being the runt of their proverbial litter -- Sarge likes him just fine, always has even if he won't say it outloud, and sometimes being the one without the drama, without all the tension and fluttering hearts and angry, angry voices means he's the one they come to when it gets bad, when it starts going downhill. 

Sometimes it means he can get exactly what he wants, and no one's there to notice.

See, Donut met Frank the same night Tucker met Grif. He met Frank while he was throwing out the trash and the guy was sneaking a smoke behind the dumpster, a little tipsy, telling him that if anyone knew he was still trying to quit, they'd strangle him.

"I'm trying to be a doctor," he'd said, and Donut thought he was really, _really_ cute.

He decided right then he wanted to know him. Maybe for forever.

 

 

 

They go on their first date to some little sandwich place. His name is Frank and he's a nurse, trying to get into med school. 

"I've been trying for like, six years," he says sheepishly.

"What's stopping you?" Frank shrugs, dipping his fries in mayo -- that's a cute thing, but also kind of a gross thing, Donut thinks. But they can go together, it's alright. 

"My old man's a doctor. He's always wanted it."

"My dad was a farmer," Donut says. "He was pretty mad when I left home. Maybe you're not supposed to be a doctor." Frank expression grows a little dark, and he stares down at his plate. "That was the wrong thing to say, wasn't it?"

"No. It was okay. It's just...I think that a lot, too. Sometimes it's different to hear someone say what you're always thinking."

Donut reaches across the table and takes Frank's hand in his. "Sometimes you need to hear it."

 

 

 

It starts off slow and gets very fast, very quick. 

Donut realizes Frank is passionate about strange things, like keeping his kitchen clean and screening his phone calls. Also about kissing. He's very passionate about kissing, but it all sort of stops there. Donut finds it kind of exciting and a relief at the same time. Because the physical things are the things Donut has never been very good at. Beyond the kissing. That he's always liked.

Frank is passionate about kissing. But he doesn't push. He doesn't ask for more. And Donut doesn't want more. 

So it's good.

It works.

It doesn't mean it's perfect, but it works. 

Only a few months in, they are making out on Donut's couch, something long and winding and indulgent, when Frank says, "Do you want me to blow you?"

Donut considers him. He's had other partners do it, and it's not something he didn't like, but he wasn't incredibly passionate about it either. 

"No," he says. "Do you want me to blow you?"

"No," Frank says. Then: "We're okay, though?"

"Of course we're okay. Why wouldn't we be okay?"

Frank shrugs. "Sometimes...sometimes other guys. They're okay with this for a while and then they're not. And then it's over."

"I don't need to have sex with you to be happy with you," Donut says plainly. "I like this. I like you. I don't need that other stuff." He bites his lip. "I'm not particularly...crazy about all that other stuff, actually."

"The sex." Donut nods, and Frank stares, blankly, just for a moment.

Then he laughs.

"Um."

"I'm sorry," he says. "I'm really sorry." He leans forward and kisses Donut again. "It's just...it feels so good that you don't need it either. It feels really, _really_ good." He kisses harder, and Donut wraps his arms around Frank's neck and kisses back. Frank says, "Feels better than sex," and drops his mouth down to Donut's neck, kisses the dip there between his collar bone, and tickles his sides.

" _That's_ not funny!" Donut scrambles and laughs and they both roll off the couch onto the floor, content with this, content with each other, content...just to be.

 

 

 

There's nothing really complicated about it. Donut is happy to be with Frank, and Frank is happy to be with Donut. Donut feels like he's always happy pretty much all the time -- but Frank, sometimes, isn't.

It's not scary, or even unsettling.

But it's upsetting, sometimes, when Donut feels like he can't get through. And Frank won't let him in.

It usually happens after he talks to his dad. Those are the worst times.

"Will you just let me--"

"I don't need to be coddled. I don't need you to take care of me, I'm not an infant."

"Babe, I just--"

"Don't say that. Don't do that." Frank kicks one of the kitchen cabinets, pushes over a chair. It's messy, not the worst he's been, but not the best. Donut doesn't flinch, doesn't move. He's spent a lot of his life being yelled at by people who are bigger than him, stronger than him, think they're smarter than him. 

So he can handle this. Because Frank isn't really any of those things. Smarter, maybe, but not bigger or stronger. Donut holds his own in a kitchen, used to bake bread before he worked with Sarge. He has the burns and forearms to prove it. So when Frank gets mad, Donut stands his ground.

"I am not leaving you."

"You _should._ I can't do anything right. I didn't go to the right school, or get the right grades, or fall in love with the right person--"

"Stop that."

"I don't _want_ to stop."

Donut reaches out. "Then don't. But please don't shut me out. If you wanna get mad, then _get mad._ It's your life, they're _your_ feelings." He brings him closer. "But don't push me away. Don't make this feel like a mistake." Frank shudders under his hands. "I love you," he says. 

"But we--"

"It's soon, I get it. And maybe that's the wrong thing to say, maybe it's not. But right now, you need to hear it, because you need to know that I don't care how angry you get or how wrong you feel. You are _right_ to me. You are right _for_ me."

"Do you mean it?"

"Every word."

"Every time?"

"Every _freakin'_ time, sweetheart."

Frank smiles, then. He smiles and falls into Donut's arms and sobs. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be."

"I don't deserve you."

"Yes," Donut says. "You do."

 

 

 

Sarge likes Frank. Calls him Doc.

"Um, I'm not an actual doctor--"

"You work in a hospital, right?"

"Yes?"

"I'm just gonna call you Doc."

"My name is Frank--"

"He won't remember," Grif says, walking by. 

Simmons sighs. "Trust us. He won't."

"Hey, _dirtbags._ Stop chitchattin' and get those damn plates out there."

"Yes, sir!" 

Frank's just come by to say hello, drop off the apron Donut left as his place. Donut feels a little embarrassed for a minute, but Frank isn't afraid of or unnerved by him. He shrugs.

"Nursing school is an extra level of hell," he explains, like that's just the answer.

Donut laughs, shrill.

"Cupcake, tell your boyfriend if he ain't gonna work, then he ain't' stayin'."

"I've got a shift at the hospital, sir. But maybe next time."

Sarge looks him up and down, then nods. "As you were."

Donut just stares between them, at a complete loss for words.

 

 

 

"Man," Donut says to Tucker, the night Grif and Simmons’ restaurant opens."This place looks _amazing!_ I'm bringing my boyfriend here."

"You have a boyfriend?" Tucker asks.

"Uh, yeah? For like, a million years." Donut claps Tucker on the shoulder and trails after Sarge.

It's fun, sometimes, to be the runt of the litter.

He gets what he wants, and no one really notices.

Sitting with Frank that next week, sharing a dessert, he realizes that that's a good thing. 

He gets to keep the things he loves all to himself.


End file.
